


There is Beauty in a Smile

by Traycer



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: Community: galpalficathon, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-20
Updated: 2011-08-20
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traycer/pseuds/Traycer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She is a machine, and I don't know if I will ever trust her completely, but her mission is to protect my son.  That's all that counts."</p>
            </blockquote>





	There is Beauty in a Smile

**Author's Note:**

> Written for galpalficathon - Prompt: Sarah and Cameron/ Understand; Beauty; Convictions. I started out with one prompt in mind, and ended up using different ones. Doesn't that always seem to be the way it goes?

Sometimes at night, when the darkness gives way to dreams, I can see the past. A myriad of pictures and scenes that inevitably paint an outlook so bleak, I have to fight off the sadness that wants to drag me down into the shadows of my future. And to say that the future is bleak and barren is an understatement. Despite our efforts to change it, we are still destined to live in a world run by computers and machines.

Sometimes during my waking hours, I still deal with the sadness of what is to come. I know that change is a constant, but I also know that I could lose my son at any given moment. This is a fear that I carry with me on a daily basis while we struggle to live. Yet occasionally the past catches up with me and there are times when a ray of hope finds its way into my world. It's rare, but as I sit here listening to children playing in the neighborhood, I remember how it used to be. Visions of childhood friends fill my mind, and memories of the days before that first terminator showed his face lightens my heart. Life was so easy back then.

Cameron is staring at me. I hate it when she does that. I try to ignore her, to focus on the children playing, but it's too late. The memories are already fading.

"What?" I ask, realizing too late that I probably should have just pretended that she doesn't exist.

"You were smiling."

"Yeah, well that happens sometimes."

"No, it doesn't."

Trust Cameron to lay it down on the line. She's right of course, but there really isn't a whole lot to smile about these days. "Just forget it happened this time," I tell her, hoping she will take the hint.

She doesn't. "There is beauty in a smile," she says, her tone emotionless, yet somewhat sincere.

I stare at her in astonishment, wondering where she picked up that phrase, then shrug it off. I really don't care. I turn my attention back to the children, while resentment moves in. It's apparent that Cameron is trying to work something out and is not planning on leaving me alone in the very near future.

"Did John ever smile?"

God. Talk about a verbal punch in the gut. Sadness rolls through me as I sit here trying to remember the last time I saw my son smile. It had been so long ago, almost an eternity, and I hate that he was destined to be unhappy from the moment he was conceived. Perhaps he had smiled recently, but rarely around me. Tears spring to my eyes at that thought.

"When he was young, he smiled all the time," I found myself saying, perhaps in a vain attempt to ease my guilt. I turn to stare off into space, as more memories of a happier time flash through my mind. "He had friends and…" I stop then, wondering why I even bother. I shouldn't have to justify myself to a machine. "He had a lot of things to be happy about."

This seems to appease her curiosity. "That's good," she says as she nods her head, then stares intently at me, her expression as indifferent as our destiny. "I would like to see him smile again." She turns and walks back into the house, leaving me stunned and confused. Again?

It's not worth the brain power, I tell myself, as I sit here on my patio, the sounds of children playing still ringing out through the neighborhood. She's just a machine. But the damage to my self esteem is done. Sadness continues to plague me as I worry about John. It's not enough that he is in constant danger, but I make sure he never forgets it. And in doing so, I've taken away his happiness. What kind of a mother am I?

The sounds of playing children no longer ease my fears. In fact, they seem to magnify the terror of knowing what the future holds, as my nightmares take over my thoughts. Bombs and machines will destroy everything, including playgrounds, if we don't find a way to stop them. John has to be prepared.

The door bangs open and my son walks tentatively toward me, his expression wary. He is followed by Cameron, and I can't help but wonder what she had done. "Mom?" he says, as he takes a step toward me. "You okay?" The concern on his face lightens my mood. At least he doesn't completely hate me.

"Yeah," I tell him, a small smile escaping me as realization dawns. Cameron must have told him I was sick or something. "I'm just taking a break."

He walks toward me, slowly at first, sitting down next to me as he stares into my eyes. I reach out to touch his face, smiling a little to let him know that I really am okay, and he nods back, relieved. I can't help it. I pull him into my arms, holding him tightly, wishing I could take back all those years of unhappiness. He deserves much more than I could ever give him.

He pulls back and smiles at me. A genuine smile and those traitorous tears start up again as I smile back at my only son. I love him more than he will ever know.

I look over at Cameron, who is watching us with an unconcerned attitude. But I know better. She may be a machine, but she understands more than I give her credit for. John and I needed this moment. Why else would she have sent him out here?

"There is beauty in a smile," Cameron says again. I can only agree with her as she turns on a brilliant smile of her own. She is a machine, and I don't know if I will ever trust her completely, but her mission is to protect my son. That's all that counts.


End file.
